


Three Cheesecakes

by Missy



Category: Golden Girls
Genre: Cheesecake, Eating, Female Friendship, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Three Things, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 13:02:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8891836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Three cheesecakes eaten by the girls during three different events.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celeria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeria/gifts).



**1:**

Dorothy had brought six cheesecakes to this reunion, and damn it, they were going to eat all of them.

These were fancier than the ones they used to buy at Wolfie’s; made with fresh cream and delicious chocolate chips. Lucas knew exactly what she liked by now, and what her friends liked and, so to speak, how to please them all.

“Please phrase that a different way,” begged Blanche, but Dorothy wiggled her eyebrows. She did avoid telling her how brain-breakingly amazingly good Lucas was at loving her, to Blanche’s everlasting relief. 

 

**2:**

There was exactly one cheesecake, and Dorothy supposed that was all they needed. It wasn’t every day that someone became a great-grandmother and lived to talk about it. It was a teenage pregnancy, one of Michael’s kids (of course). The child was small and birdlike, with huge eyes that took in Dorothy’s face with fearful reverence. 

Sophia laughed when she complained she felt old. “How do you think I feel? I’m a great-great-great grandmother. I’ve got teeth older than most of my offspring!”

Dorothy swallowed a huge gulp of the cake, nearly choking at Sophia’s choice of words. 

**3:**

She took a slice of cake out of the freezer and set it to thaw. God, would she have an appetite? Would she ever want to look at food again? 

She sat at the table with a sigh. It was inevitable. The wearing of time. He was nearly ninety, after all, and they’d had fifteen good years together. It was all to be expected. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

Widowhood stank worse than divorce did. That was for sure.

The doorbell rang and suddenly three pairs of feet, three faces, three sets of arms rushed to embrace her. And Dorothy’s heart took wing. Her sisters were here – her mother was here. She could let go and let them take care of her.

The thought crossed her mind and two seconds later came the first clear voice.

“What’ve you got to eat?” Rose wondered. “I’m starving!”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Yuletide!


End file.
